However, there are a few people on either side that would answer the questions. I would personally answer vaguely to not give too much personal detail. I agree with both Mr. Bilingual and purplepuppies. I think in general, European people are more blunt than Americans when it comes to talking about how they personally feel and I like that. On a peur de parler à un fou.

Je ne sais pas comment mes autres camarades vivent la chose, mais les personnes qui me parlent dans le bus sont tous des pauvres types ou des fous. Dans le midi de la France, par exemple, les gens ont tendance à engager assez facilement la conversation. Bonjour à tous! La meileure situation est quand mes passagers discutent entre eux et que je peux tranquillement conduire en me concentrant sur la route, en écoutant leurs histoire.

It is kind of sad that at least 9 out of 10 people in the metro, including myself sometimes, are only looking and listening to their smartphone. I think it would be more enjoyable to have a conversation while in the train.

Personally, I am less talkative on a bus because I get carsick, and usually I feel like a bus ride is quite stressful. However, if I were traveling by train, I am often pretty excited to talk to my neighbors.

This very much interests me. Actually, in the city in general, it seems that people are less interested in talking to strangers or being outwardly friendly. What kinds of conversations, if any, might occur during a short subway or taxi ride? Most people generally try to avoid contact with others. But yea, I get the point. On the other hand it could also be an opportunity to meet an interesting person and potentially a good friend. For instance, people from the South are usually much more friendly and talkative with strangers than people from New England.

I would have to agree again with Cefernan Great minds think alike.

I would talk to the person depending upon whether it is a guy or girl and depending upon his or her age. It would be an interesting experience for me to take a train or bus in France regime gerlinea I am from New York City. I took the train to my high school everyday and I got use to strange people trying to talk to me on the train.

I always felt that when someone tried to talk to me they would either ask for directions or more likely ask for spare change. I agree with Marianne in that, when talking on the metro or subway, you can end up being stuck in a conversation that you do not want to be in.

The other day, I wanted to study a little bit while on the shuttle from my dorm to school and a random person on the shuttle started talking to me. Out of curiosity, what do people think of talking to strangers in elevators?

Pour Nofreepapayas, à Lyon grande ville quand mêmeles gens ne se parlent pas dans le métro, bus ou train. Les jeunes ne se parlent pas entre eux. Pour Mr. Moi même dans un avion de 12 h, je ne parle pas à la personne à côté de moi. Ne comprenant toujours pas, je lui demande pourquoi. I can honestly say that sort of situation has not happened to me before, so perhaps that may be one of the reasons why I am still so open to talking to strangers.

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I saw some people mentioned they had never used public transportation before they came to MIT. It is very interesting to see your perspective on the problem! It is very convenient and not expensive. The only problem is the every day crowds. There are always people going to work, students going to school or universities, elderly going grocery shopping with food carts, and mothers with crying babies.

No one ever makes an eye contact with you because it is a sign of aggression. The fellow travelers start being very nice. Sometimes the trips are long 1 week if you go across the country. Often you have to share a room on the train with three other people.

Subway rides oh you got me wondering usage

I know some people who became friends that way. Il y a une intimité qui se crée. Pour répondre à Reymondnina, je crois que comme Marianne le dit, quand on est coincé dans un petit espace, on a plus tendance à vouloir briser le silence. En partant en vacances, on est plus détendus et plus enclins à partager ce que nous allons faire ou nous venons de faire avec un étranger à côté de qui on va passer quelques heures plutôt que de parler à un inconnu que nous ne verrons que quelques minutes dans le bus!

Avez vous eu des situations bizarres dans les transports avec des inconnus? Ce résultat correspond plus ou moins avec ma provision.

Il est nécessaire de prendre les précautions quand on est seul et hors de la maison. Qui sait nous ratons peut-être de très belles rencontres. No point going back to work so I ride a bus to the subway station. The passengers flow like lava from the bus station to the subway platform, streaming down steps and through tunneled corridors.

It's in the converging of two streams that I find my nose in the back of a blond bob. Could it be? I jostle a bit so I can get a look at the woman's profile.

It looks like Samantha—but the Samantha I remember from high school never wore red lipstick. It's striking the way her red lips are set off against her pale complexion. And she looks smart in her business suit. Context is everything—and in this unexpected context Sam is slow to recognize me. And besides, in high school my face was clean; I couldn't have grown a beard if I tried, but now a full thatch covers my face.

Is that you? Ya Dave. From home form. She does remember me after all. We pass the bathroom and I need to go but I really want to talk to Sam. It seems ultra dorky to ask her to wait for me while I take a leak, so I walk past the bathroom door. Things are tightly packed in the subway train and we find ourselves smushed together at one end of the car, pressed against the glass and smiling at strangers who are smushed together in the next car, pressed against the glass and smiling back at us.

We talk easily and it's as if the years melt away. Fun times. Saturday nights. Teachers we hated. Friends in rehab. I ask about her sisters and her mom and she asks about my brother Gordy and whether he got the mole on his face fixed. But as the train lurches from the station, it reminds me of my bladder and I start to do an awkward dance from one leg to the other.

We're deep into the tunnel and Sam is deep into a story about her best friend Augusta who married a guy who turned out to be bi-polar and treated her tenderly whenever he was depressed but beat her and tore off with other women whenever he was manic.

And now Augusta is living with Sam until she can get back on her feet. En lire plus En lire moins. Livres Amazon Original.